


Bathroom Jack

by WincestSounds (Cammerel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crinkle Love, First time for both, Incest, M/M, RP, Straight Winchesters, Top!Sam, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 09:59:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/WincestSounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean goes to the bathroom to get off and Sam follows unknowingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bathroom Jack

**Author's Note:**

> Season: Not specified, but probably between 3-5ish.

It wasn’t often that Dean became impatient with relief, but the two Winchesters had been on an intense case for nearly  _three weeks_  now, and it was finally getting to him. They’d had rushed sleeping hours, long waits in the Impala while staking out areas, and abnormally intense conversations with the residents of the apartment complex they visited on a nearly daily basis.

Dean hadn’t had time to himself in a while. Honestly, he could normally handle a day or  _two_ , but he’d been so busy that time just… Slipped by. And now it was making him restless.

He’d honestly only stood and left the bar to go to the bathroom, there’d been nothing planned. But the moment he was in there, and realized that it was empty, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

After going to the bathroom, he locked himself in one of the vacated stalls and swallowed, ears sharp and listening out, but no one came in still. He was nervous, had never done something like this in a public area, but _goddamn_  if this was the only time he might be able to do it.

He wet his fingers in his mouth, reaching back as he shuffled his jeans down to his knees and tried to relax as his heart thrummed wildly. The moment he touched himself, the sigh of relief escaped and he dropped his forehead against the side of the stall, one finger slipping in as he moaned.

* * *

It was easy to see the older Winchester was irritable and almost anxious over the past couple of weeks, Sam did his best not to aggravate him any further. Always being so close and cramped together twenty-four seven wasn’t really something he could help though. In all fairness, he could understand where Dean was coming from - sort of.

Sam knew that his brother was a sexual creature of sorts, he’d always been the type and it was easy to distinguish when the older Winchester wasn’t getting off; he’d get antsy and his words were usually short, clipped.

Sam sat at the bar and looked towards the bathroom, wondering what was taking Dean so long before he decided that maybe he could use the restroom as well. He took a long chug of his beer before sitting it down with a heavy clink and striding to the bathroom.

There wasn’t anyone else in there, aside from Dean. The younger Winchester didn’t say anything as he entered the stall next to his brother and he knew it was him - the boots showing from under the stall was a dead giveaway.

Sam started to unbutton his pants when he heard a faint noise, not a moan or anything overly loud - just heavy breathing, hitching on occasion. Sam barely had a second to put his hand against the stall before all of his blood rushed south, filling his cock so full it hurt.

_Was Dean actually jacking off in a public place? Had he gotten so desperate for release?_  It left Sam feeling a little fuzzy and a little  **more** than awkward. Standing in the stall next to his brother as he listened intently, his hand ghosting over his cock.  _Fuck_. This was messed up, but the breathy noises were making it pretty much impossible to care.

Dean was well aware when the person had entered the bathroom and taken the stall next to him. He would’ve stopped, but goddamn, he wouldn’t have another chance like this. And it was practically a  _sin_  to consider taking his hands away now. His nervous eyes glanced down and saw his brother’s familiar boots. It was ironic, maybe odd, but that comforted him slightly; that it was his brother and not a total stranger. Sam had probably heard him on more than one occasion anyways, it didn’t matter.

The older Winchester arched his body, fingers reaching back the best he could. He wasn’t the most flexible of men, but it was enough,  _more than enough_. Dean took his lips between his teeth as a breath of air escaped his nose. He was trying to be quiet, but Dean was never really  **that**  kind of person. Oh well, if Sam knew what was going on, he was either going to subject himself to it or leave, either was fine with Dean, so long as he finally got the fuck off.

Sam’s eyes were fixed on the leather of Dean’s boots as he reached down the front of his jeans and pulled his dick out; thoughts about what his brother actually looked like at that exact moment were running rampant through his mind. The closest he’d ever really been was a bed away and he could remember laying there, getting hard himself just by listening to Dean - and all of that started when they were teenagers, the want was so amplified by this point Sam felt like he was going to explode.

The younger Winchester let out a heavy breath as he wrapped his hand around his cock, just the slight amount of pressure helped relieve the ache. Sam pressed his forehead against the stall, one hand flat against it as his other hand worked and teased the tip of his cock, smearing pre-come down the shaft a little with his thumb, slickening his grip.

Dean nearly swallowed his tongue when he heard the sound escape his brother’s lips, his body tingled in response. Sam was… Getting off as well? To  **him**  getting off?

“Fuck,” Dean was unable to stop the words from coming out and he shook, the fingers inside of him wandering desperately, pressing and curling as he twisted his wrist. He thought he’d been eager to get off before, but now, with his brother in the stall next to him, jacking off to the older Winchester’s fingers, he was so fucking hard that it  _hurt_.

He didn’t touch himself though, left his cock to weep desperately between his legs as he looked down, watching Sam’s boots, looking at his own jeans, pooled down at his ankles as he squirmed on his fingers. He didn’t realize the sounds he was making until they’d come out, little moans and whimpering sounds, needy, impatient as he reached up and touched his nipples with his freehand.

Sam’s cock throbbed in his grip when Dean cursed, the sound of his brother’s voice made his heart hammer wildly in his chest. More than anything, he wanted to move over into Dean’s stall, witness what was making him sound like that first hand, maybe even help a little. That wasn’t going to happen though, so this would have to work.

Sam dropped his arm from the stall, keeping his forehead pressed against it as his hands worked in tandem. His right pulling and twisting along the head, his left thumb hooked around the base of his cock as the rest of his hand held his balls, squeezing occasionally.

“Mm,” Sam moaned quietly, his eyes clenched shut as he imagined that his hand was Dean’s instead.

Dean was practically drowning in the sounds of his brother, the movements of his body, the sounds of his silence. It was familiar, and also very, very foreign. He could imagine the veins along Sam’s arms becoming more pronounced as his firm hold spurred forth such moans.

Dean let out a tight, painful gasp as his body shook, hips bucking slightly in a desperate thrust. He didn’t often tease himself, or deny himself release, but he knew that if he touched his cock, it’d be so easy. He was so full, so excited, so  _completely fucking turned on_  at the moment that if he even touched his cock, he might come.

Instead, the fingers behind him continued their wandering press, slick from spit and effort, making soft little squelching sounds and it made him even harder. “God,  _please_ ,” He said through numb lips, feeling the ache in his arms as he pressed in more and brushed that familiar spot finally, and the sound that escaped him was shocked, awed, and thankful as he teased it again;  _just within his reach_.

Sam felt his legs almost buckle beneath him when he heard Dean whine, he sounded so desperate, aching for release. The younger Winchester rolled his head to the side a little, sweat beginning to cover the back of his neck and hairline as he continued to jack himself off, the vein in his forehead protruding a little with the force he was using to please himself.

Hearing Dean like this, in such a close proximity, had him standing at the edge of release already, the swollen pink tip peeking out from his grip as he tightened his hand.

“Do it,” Sam mumbled, beyond caring, he was too wrapped up in the moment and he wanted to hear Dean get off - knowing that it would be his undoing as well.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dean groaned in response, eyes watering as he reached down finally, fingers brushing out along his cock. It was amazing, watching the purple length shudder and pulse in his palm before the violent orgasm rocked through him. He felt his legs shake, the sound of his voice echoing through the room, not loud, but not silent, a pained, choking whimper as he came.

“Sam,” He breathed out, just barely, as he filled his open hand and pulled his fingers away finally, panting and shaking, body a mess of quivers as he smiled, “Sonova bitch.”

Sam’s body responded to Dean’s, even through the stall wall and he came, filling his palm up with warm come as he gasped and cracked his head against the wall. The only thing aside from heavy breathing and a loud groan that came from his lips was, “ _Dean_ ,” hoarse and broken as the reality of the situation started creeping back up on him.

The younger Winchester blinked a few times before grabbing a wad of toilet paper with his clean hand and wiped his other off before tugging himself back into his jeans, trying not to panic.

Dean swallowed as his heart rate dropped, the adrenaline trickling away until he was forced to push away from the wall and wipe himself down. He licked his dried lips and pulled his pants back up as he began to mull over what had just happened.

He’d just gotten off, in tandem with his younger brother, had been spurred through it  **by**  Sam, and had even voiced the younger Winchester’s name aloud, acknowledged it; he’d  _voiced their actions_ , vocalized the fact that he  **knew**  it was Sam on the other side. There wasn’t even plausible deniability, and now he had to face his brother. _Or he could just keep his swollen lips shut._

Sam rolled his shoulders for a moment before deciding that he couldn’t stay in the stall forever, maybe he could get out of here before Dean and swear up and down it hadn’t happened or that it wasn’t him. Part of him didn’t want to though, he liked the fact that, when he told Dean to do it, that he could get off -  _he did_ , and that was something to be proud of.

The younger Winchester exited the stall, made an effort to wash his hands before scuffling out of the bathroom. He went back to where he’d been sitting before, settling back down on his stool as his sweat began to cool, sending a chill up his spine as he lifted his beer for a drink.

“Shit,” Dean whispered after Sam had left and he moved, opening his stall door and washing his hands as well. His chest was heavy with fear as he walked out into the bar and took the seat by his brother in silence. He sipped his beer nervously before chugging the rest and getting up, “You good?” He asked, clearing his throat after the words came out.  _That question could be taken in many, **many**  different ways now._

Sam kept his voice low and he didn’t exactly look Dean in the eyes either, he just nursed a sip of his beer and sort of nodded, tilting his head to the side so that his brother could hear him, “ _I just got off to the sound of my brother jacking off in the bathroom_ ,” His own honesty scared the ever living hell out of him, but there wasn’t really any point in pussy footing around the subject, “ _I’m as good as to be expected_.”

Dean was about to argue the point, or say something along the lines of ‘ _are we gonna do this here?_ ’ when the comment cut him off short and he ducked out his lips for a moment before responding, “ _I didn’t really **jack off** , I mean, just the one pump at the end_…”

Sam squinted his eyes before turning to look at Dean, confusion knotting his brows together, “ _If you weren’t jacking off then what were you-_ ” The younger Winchester’s eyes went a little wide when his own thought process finished his sentence for him mentally, “ _Oh_.” It felt like he was having a hot flash, the mental image that brought about was enough to have his cock filling again.

“Yeah, well,” Dean shrugged as he turned slightly on his stool, back pressed against the bar as he smirked and licked his lips, legs spread wide as he watched his brother. Some times, Sam was too innocent, but it made moments like this **fucking golden**  to experience. To see the shock of lust rush through Sam, though, wasn’t something Dean’d expected.

Sam shifted on the stool uncomfortably, sitting like this made it feel like his dick was going to snap off and he was far too fond of it to let that happen. He stood instead, right next to his stool and his shoulder brushed Dean’s - even though the older man was turned and facing the crowd.

“ _This is fucked up_ ,” Sam said to himself before tilting his head to the side again, making sure Dean was the only one who could hear him, “ _You know, I wanted to help you - wanted to watch you, see what you did to yourself to make those noises_.” The younger Winchester turned so that he was facing the crowd as well, his elbows on the bar as he leaned in closer to his brother, his lips ghosting Dean’s ear, “ _ **I**  wanted to make you make those noises_.”

Dean closed his eyes at the words and turned to brush his nose against Sam’s, eyelids opening and his gaze boring into his brother’s as he said, “ _I **wanted**  you to_.” He almost felt like it wasn’t really happening, like the entire situation in the bathroom had been fabricated, that he’d wake up in the morning and wonder who’d slipped the drug into his beer, but parts of him hoped that wasn’t the case.

He’d kept quiet about so much of himself already, denied himself so many things, if Sam was going to reciprocate the same emotions, Dean felt he deserved some part of that.

“ _I still want to_ ,” Sam admitted, holding his brother’s gaze as he licked his lips. If it were a gay bar, Sam knew he probably already would have had his lips on Dean’s, but as it stood - this bar was as honky-tonk as they come, so he’d have to wait until they were both outside.

Being this close to Dean’s face was an experience in itself - the way those long lashes swept down to his cheeks, the flecks of sun-kissed freckles dancing across the bridge of his nose.

“I wouldn’t protest,” Dean’s eyes flicked down to his brother’s lips. Things were moving fast, but that was normally how Winchesters worked. It was completely impossible to go back from this now, and Dean was sort of tentative because of that. But, at the same time, there was really no stopping it now, the ball was rolling, and he couldn’t really stop it if he tried.

He wanted his brother, he was sure of that, and he knew it wasn’t just because of how horny he was, but he needed to clear something up between them before things got out of hand, “ _I’m not gay_.”

“That’s gonna make things a little complicated then, don’t you think?” Sam asked, smirking at Dean before backing off a little bit. Of course it also made sense to Sam, in a way. It wasn’t like he found other guys attractive, it was just Dean that caught his attention.

The older Winchester stood and set money down on the bar by his drink before giving Sam a suggestive look, “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” He said as he slipped his wallet into his back pocket, “You’re the exception.”

Sam chugged the last bit of his beer and sat it down on the bar before nodding to the door, glancing at Dean’s lips, “Alright then, let’s go.” It was like he felt his chest swell with his brother’s words. It was good to know he was the exception to the rule, as was Dean for him.

Dean smirked as he left the bar, pulling his keys from his jacket pocket and heading directly for the Impala. Despite having already gotten off, he was too excited to be concerned about what was happening anymore. Sam wanted to, he had been  **very**   **clear**  about that, and Dean had done nothing to try and convince him of it; it was legit.

Just as they were approaching the Impala, Sam glanced around to make sure no one was looking as he grabbed Dean by the hips and pushed him against the car - his breath hot along his brother’s skin as he nosed up his neck to his ear, pressing his groin against Dean’s ass, “Won’t even have to prep you, you already worked yourself open for me,” He brought the lobe of his brother’s ear into his mouth, sucked on it lightly, “God, you like it,  **don’t**  you?”

“Sam,” The name escaped Dean’s lips before he’d had time to register what was happening. Sam pushing against him caused his cock to spring to attention, eager again, and Dean responded, “Yeah,” He said as his lips shook, “I  **do**.” He arched his back and rolled his hips, ass grinding down on his brother’s crotch, “Feels so good.”

Sam held Dean’s hips with a white-knuckled grip as he rolled his growing erection against him, breathing along his neck before placing a kiss there, “Wanna make you feel good.”

It was hard to pull himself away so that they could leave, but he did, after placing an open mouthed kiss on Dean’s jaw as he squeezed his ass. After stepping away, he adjusted himself, trying not to think about how pretty Dean would look bouncing on his dick.

The older Winchester had to keep himself calm as he pushed off the side of the car and looked at Sam, eyes heated and dick fucking solid against his pants as he walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in. It was going to be a fucking  **long**  drive back.

Sam slid into the passenger side seat and tilted his head back, trying to ignore the throbbing in his pants - his hand squeezing the outline of it to relieve the persistent pressure. It wouldn’t do him any good to look over at Dean either, or they probably wouldn’t make it back.

Dean drove impatiently, body practically humming in it’s eager wait, cock straining against his jeans as it pushed it’s way along his leg. He was so fucking hard, already, drunk with lust as he parked the car, locked the door, and climbed out. He made his way to their motel room and jammed the key in the lock, twisting before pushing it open.

Sam was hot on Dean’s heels and practically shoving him through the door, eager and damn near dizzy with want. The younger Winchester had his coat off in no time at all, slinging it across the chair as he crowded up against Dean - wrapping one of his arms around his midsection as he pulled the shorter man against him and nipped at his neck.

“Sam,” Dean breathed as his toes curled in his boots. He reached out, touching his brother’s biceps before he arched back and dropped his arms to pull his own jacket off. He was conflicted with what he wanted to do first, body leaning into Sam, hands trying to undress himself, “Come on, gimme a moment to take this off.” But goddamn, he didn’t want Sam’s hands off of him, not for a second.

Sam shook his head and stayed pressed close, his fingers pushing the jacket down over Dean’s shoulders as he continued to kiss his way up his brother’s neck, sucking on the skin and bringing light purple marks to the surface.

The older Winchester dropped the jacket back behind his feet, freeing his arms once more and combing his fingers through Sam’s long hair, neck arching back as he moaned. He’d never been so hard in his life, so _completely fucking turned on_ , the scene in the bathroom had nothing on this. His throat was practically dry from how shocking, and overwhelming, it was to have the taller man’s mouth on his body.

Sam’s left hand wandered under the hem of Dean’s shirt, touching the silky soft skin - reveling in the way it felt before he pulled back a little.

“Can I kiss you?” The younger Winchester asked, his gaze dropping to his brother’s lips as he licked his own, his right hand cupping the curve of Dean’s jaw. It may have seemed like a silly question but, as far as Sam knew - this was just sex, and to him, kissing was slightly more intimate.

Dean was sort of startled by the question, and he had to pause and think about it before the words fit together right. He nodded, staring into Sam’s eyes as he swallowed, “Yeah, of course you can.”

He wasn’t sure why Sam had asked, maybe his brother worked this differently than he did. Even put off by the question though, his body was still thrumming, if not even  **more**  when Sam asked such a clear, connective thing.

“Good,” Sam breathed, relieved as he leaned in and pressed his lips to Dean’s. The first brush of lips was tentative and slow before he moved in further, tilting his head a little as he licked Dean’s bottom lip. His lips were sweet and plush, with a bitter taste of beer and something so distinctly Dean beneath it all that it made him light headed.

The younger Winchester’s hands were busy, still learning his brother’s body - grabbing at his waist and working on his jeans, unzipping them and barely shoving them down over his brother’s hips before his hands found their way up under his shirt as well.

Dean kissed back at once, eyes opened first before slowly closing as he leaned into it more, mashing their faces together intensely as his lips parted. It was interesting, to say the  **least** , kissing a man, kissing his brother, feeling Sam’s strength bleeding through him. Dean was never really the kind to be ‘in control’, to  _dominate_ , to force; he was a lover, and he was slower, careful, easy. But Sam’s lust and hunger for him was so intense that it was nearly smothering.

The hands on him moved like they didn’t have another second to waste, like they wanted to know his deepest secrets. He felt like he was melting, recognizing the rough, padded fingertips on his skin, large hands that he was familiar with in every other way, save this.

Sam had managed to get his own pants unbuttoned with one hand, fly down but the jeans still hung low on his hips as his other hand worked up Dean’s chest, practically groaning against the older man’s mouth, “Your skin is so soft.” Some of the women he’d been with didn’t even come close, their skin could’ve been sandpaper compared to Dean’s and that was probably being polite about it.

Things were moving fast and Sam knew he was to blame, he’d always been the type to go after and take what he wanted; Dean not being an exception. If anything, Sam wanted the older man more than just about anything - had wanted him since he was younger and, now that he had the opportunity, he was going to take all he could.

“Mm,” Dean wasn’t sure how else to take the, er…  _Compliment_? He didn’t really know how Sam preferred it, but it had sounded like he was pleased. The older Winchester kicked his boots off and pulled his shirt over his head before taking Sam’s lips up again, tongue wandering into his brother’s mouth and flicking over the larger man’s as he began removing Sam’s shirt as well.

Sam lifted his arms and let Dean pull his shirt the rest of the way off, the contrast in their skin making his breath hitch momentarily. Where Sam had straight, hard edges, Dean had muscles, but the lines of his body were softer - more supple. The younger Winchester kicked his boots off then shucked himself out of his jeans, his mouth barely leaving Dean’s in the process.

Dean stepped out of his own pants, flicking them from his left foot before toeing his socks down and leaning in completely,  _finally_. He sighed in relief, hands pulling Sam’s waist flush against his and rolling his hips. He still had on his tight black boxer-briefs, but in comparison to his jeans, he might as well be naked.

The older Winchester shuddered and moaned against Sam’s mouth, “Goddamn clothes’re nothin’ short’a’nnoyin’.”

“Yeah,” Sam mumbled against Dean’s lips, both of his hands holding his brother’s face, “How d’you wanna do this? God, I just want you - need you.”

“Uh,” Dean wasn’t entirely use to so many questions but, he figured, with Sam, this probably wasn’t going to go away after the first night, “I don’t know, I never done this. Just,” He leaned in and kissed Sam’s lips, slower, careful, taking a breath and a moment to himself, “Just have me what way you want me, an’ I’ll work from there.”  _Story of his fucking life, **that**._

Sam stood there and kissed Dean for another minute or two, savoring it before he pulled away and moved to the bed. He pushed his boxers down over his hips and kicked out of them, exposing himself to Dean as he sat on the bed, his cock straining against his stomach as he held an extended arm out to his brother, “C’mere. Think you need any more prepping?”

“I think I’m ‘bout as prepped as possible,” Dean said, voice heavy as his eyes widened, staring at his brother’s dick before he swallowed and pulled his own underwear down, stepping out of them before walking to Sam in short, numb strides, gaze locked on the firm length.

Sam looked down at his dick, then back up to Dean and smirked, taking his length up in his hand, pumping it a few times just for show, “You sure you’re not gay? You know it’s okay if you are, _more than okay,_  actually.” Sam lifted his left hand out and touched Dean’s waist tentatively, his thumb rubbing circles into the jut of his hip.

“I’m  **not** ,” Dean reaffirmed, looking back up into Sam’s eyes, “I’ve never been with a guy, never been attracted to men, I haven’t looked at one an’ thought’a fuckin’ ‘em; ‘cept you. What makes you think I’m gay?”

He felt his heart flutter at the touch of Sam’s hand, but kept his gaze locked, even though his entire body seemed like it was going to implode if he didn’t move, didn’t do something to satiate the need.

Sam shrugged nonchalantly as he put his other hand on Dean’s hip and turned his brother around then pulled him down onto his lap. “It’s just,” Sam murmured against Dean’s neck as he wrapped his left arm around his brother’s waist, his cock straining between his stomach and the crack of Dean’s ass, “I don’t know many straight guys who get off on having something  _up in them_.”

“Any that I think have a goddamn brain,  **should** ,” The older Winchester retorted as he turned his head back to whisper in Sam’s ear, “You ever done it? I’m guessin’ not. Any man that denies ‘emselves that… Well, they’re  _not_  men. It has nothin’ to do with bein’  _gay_ , it’s all about likin’ sex.” He backed his hips up, grinding Sam’s cock into his stomach and moaning needily into the larger man’s ear.

Sam considered it for a moment and forgot what he was thinking about when Dean grinded back on him, “ _Fuck_.” The younger Winchester lowered his left hand on Dean’s stomach until he was grasping his brother’s cock firmly.

“I’ve got lube in the side pocket of my duffel-bag,” Sam kissed along Dean’s shoulder, thinking to himself how beautiful his brother’s body was, “Condom too if you want.”

“You’re my  _brother_ ,” Dean commented as he reached out for Sam’s duffel-bag, dragging it forward and fishing around for the lubricant before he set it in the younger Winchester’s large palm, and turned to look into Sam’s eyes, “Why would I need  **protection**  from you?”

Sam flipped the lid and poured a generous amount into his palm, he smeared it along his length and fisted the head of his cock a few times. “I don’t mind,” The younger Winchester closed his eyes briefly, the slick sensation making his dick pulse in his hand, “Was just leaving it up to you.”

He squeezed the older man’s hip reassuringly and nosed at the back of his neck, “Now, lift up a little,” He grabbed the base of his shaft to steady it, “And bring yourself down on it, nice and easy.”

Dean nodded and licked his lips as he stood slightly, “Yeah, okay,” He set his hand back on Sam’s biceps as he began slowly, carefully lowering himself. It was a strain for both his legs, and himself, to be patient with the action, to take his lip between his teeth and breathe out slow and easy as he felt the cock spreading him open, his muscles as relaxed as possible, the ring slick still, and slack from before.

Sam moved both of his hands to Dean’s hips and pressed a long, lingering kiss to his upper back, just below his neck, “ _I got you_.” The younger Winchester made sure he helped his brother ease down nice and slow, not wanting to hurt Dean - but to make it pleasurable instead.

“Sammy,” Dean managed between his lips, stomach twisting at the words. It was the strong, steel-based comfort he was use to with his brother, the backing that he was fond of, the firm hands helping him down and he shouldn’t have been surprised, because it was normally expected of his brother, to be there when Dean needed him; but he  **was**. It was overwhelmingly surprising, and satisfyingly so.

His toes pressed under the heels of Sam’s as his stance faltered slightly and he moaned, arching his back as the angle changed, “Oh,  _fuck_.”

Sam pressed his forehead to the center of Dean’s back, his left hand inching forward again as he wrapped it around Dean’s cock. It felt amazing to be so close, so intimate to the older man when the only people who ever got to see him this way - were usually woman along their road trips and usually never to be seen again.

The younger Winchester tightened his grip along the length and set forth a slow rhythm, moving his hips along with it just slightly. The heat bearing down all around him was making it hard to think past his own dick, but he managed all the same to tend to Dean as well.

“Goddamn,” The older Winchester groaned as his body arched, reaching behind him to touch the back of Sam’s neck, running his fingers through his brother’s hair. It wasn’t a position he’d ever really seen himself in, as often as he’d ached for it and worried the hell out of his body until he was raw, or fucked so many women he questioned whether he made up his feelings for Sam, in his head, entirely; but they always came back. He always came back to wanting something like this, having his brother, intimately.

“Want you,” He breathed, “Want you buried deep in me. Don’t wanna know where I end an’ you begin.”

“Dammit,” Sam cursed but it rolled into a moan, he lifted his hand from Dean’s cock and put both his palms back on his brother’s hips - pulling him up a little and shoving him back down on Sam’s cock. He wasn’t being rough and was going slower than he usually would, trying to make sure that it’d be good for Dean.

The only thing bothering him at this point, was the fact that he couldn’t really see Dean’s face as well as he would’ve liked. “Wanna see you,” Sam thrust up, his mouth hovering directly over his brother’s ear.

Dean smiled at the words and he turned into Sam, “You can have me, Sam, any way you want,” He panted, “You just say the word, I don’t mind changin’ it up.” He’d been initially surprised by his brother’s first position, but he’d never been one to argue them, whatever felt good,  _felt good_.

“Missionary’s fine, as long as I can see you,” Sam groaned out the last few words, the thought of his brother’s bright green eyes looking up at him was just getting him that much closer. It was to be expected though.

Dean’s eyes were only one out of many features that Sam had secretly pined about over the years - his eyes and the crinkles around them. Sam was convinced each line could tell a story.

“Alright, yeah, missionary’s good,” The older Winchester planted his feet firmly and lifted off of Sam, wincing at the sudden vacancy before he turned and climbed onto the bed, laying on his back and waiting for his brother, his bottom lip tucked under the top as he sucked on it.

Sam stood up and admired the lines of his brother’s body, laid out perfectly in front of him before joining him on the bed. “Wish you could see yourself,” He mumbled, almost inaudibly. It wasn’t like he needed to feed his brother’s ego any more.

Sam crawled up between Dean’s legs and grabbed the meat of his left thigh, lifted it slowly to his hip before wrapping his hand back around his cock to align himself up with his brother’s entrance. With his eyes glued to Dean’s, he began pushing back in - a small grin pulling at the corner of his mouth as the unfamiliar, yet familiar heat enveloped him once again.

Dean’s head dropped back against the soft sheets of the mattress and he let out a tight, breathy gasp, his hands running down along Sam’s biceps as he lifted his thighs and watched the younger Winchester. It was something he’d longed for, the completeness, the full, warm feeling as his brother sheathed his cock again.

Dean wasn’t about to say it, but how his brother looked, with the tousled, sex-wrought hair, the red cheeks, the pronounced veins, it did something to Dean; something he wasn’t quite use to.

Sam took his brother’s show of skin as an invitation, he dipped his head down and kissed along the expanse of Dean’s neck, teeth grazing along his Adam’s apple as he undulated in and out of him. The pace at which they were going at now was polar opposite to how they’d began - at first it was desperate and impatient, now it was more about appreciating it while it lasted - getting to know his brother’s body and pleasing him accordingly.

He nipped at Dean’s jaw as his right hand glided along his brother’s chest, passing over his nipples gently before moving back to them again and pinching a little, tugging enough to have his brother’s back arching from the bed.

“Sam,” The older Winchester moaned appreciatively, his hands reaching up, pushing the hair out of his brother’s face, pulling his chin upward so Dean could kiss him. He’d been with plenty of women, seen just about everything, as far as that goes, but he’d never felt so settled, so at ease-so comforted-in his whole life. How had he wasted so much time without this? What the fuck had he been thinking?

Sam was so attentive, so loving, so connected to him, like they always had been, and it brought up things inside of Dean. “God, I–” He was at a loss for words, and they were coming out all scattered and messy, “It’s nothin’–everythin’, I–Sam, please.”

Sam smiled softly against Dean’s lips, his hand still on his brother’s chest as he thrust in and out of him. “I know,” The younger Winchester picked up a more frenzied pace, slow during the withdrawal so that he could feel every bit of it, “So good, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

This was something that Sam knew he’d want every day for the rest of his life; Dean falling to pieces underneath him - because of him and his actions. Being the one to bring his brother happiness and pleasure was something he could live with, easily.

Dean’s brows narrowed as he stared into his brother’s eyes, his own glassing over with unshed tears as his cheeks heated and he ran his palm over the back of Sam’s neck. Everything they’d done, everything they’d been doing had led up to this.

It was time they had something for their selves, something that made all of the struggling worth it. It only made sense that it was one another, not taking from anyone else, but to be able to enjoy, to celebrate their existence, they’d have this; to share with each other.

Sam stole another kiss, a quick press of lips before he dropped his face to the crease between Dean’s neck and shoulder - moaning and grunting breathlessly into the warm skin as he fucked into his brother.

Being balls deep and surrounded snugly by the mind-numbing heat, Sam felt blissful - a happiness so deep he could feel it in his bones. The younger Winchester raised his hand up to Dean’s head and let his fingers get lost in the short, spiky bristles of dark blonde hair.

“Sammy, I–” Dean felt it coming out, an admission, something he’d been trying to keep in, but he couldn’t help himself. He felt spread out, naked, set on display for his brother in ways that he never thought possible before; the term ‘open’ came to mind, and he was nervous about it.

But he couldn’t stop himself, Sam was pushing inside of him, burying himself and Dean was losing his self-restraint, “I want this,” He breathed, shaking, tears falling down the sides of his cheeks, into his ears as he wrapped both arms around his brother’s shoulders, “God, I–I’ve always wanted this.”

Sam’s breathing hitched and he felt his chest tighten at Dean’s words. He leaned back enough to look down at his brother, to fully observe his face as he replayed the words in his mind. It left him reeling and grappling for a grip on reality.

_How is it even remotely possible that he’s felt the same way all this time?_ It doesn’t matter though, because it’s happening right now and Sam knows that it won’t be the last time. They finally have each other and he’s damn sure not letting go. “M-Me too,” Sam rasped out, his own eyes watering enough to match Dean’s, “I’ve always wanted you, for as long as I can remember.”

The older Winchester didn’t blink, didn’t look away from his brother. He laid there, staring, serious and sincere as he ran his fingers through Sam’s long hair, combing them through it.

“Seems impossible,” He breathed between his brother’s thrusts, speaking more openly than he had his entire life, “Seems impossible, but it makes so much sense, baby boy, I–all I ever wanted was to be with you, an’ now it’s… It’s like I can actually have it.”

“You can,” Sam all but moaned out, his thrusts slowing a little bit to stave off his own orgasm as he leaned into Dean’s touch, “You can have it, you can have me.” The younger Winchester kissed Dean’s chest and dropped his hand to his brother’s cock, grasping it tightly and setting forth a slow, teasing motion.

Dean shuddered as his head dropped back again and his entire body bowed, arching upwards into his brother as he came. He knew he’d been close, but not  **that**  close, and Sam’s strong, familiarly rough grip tugging it out of him all slow like it was, he wasn’t seven pumps in before the soft, pearly white fluid spread itself in two lines half up Dean’s stomach as his hands moved, fingers practically clawing Sam’s arms as he all but sobbed his brother’s name.

The tight, vice-like grip was all the motivation Sam needed to pick his pace up a little more - rocking his hips back and forth with fervor. “Fuck,” He moaned, the vein in his forehead protruding a little bit as he came inside of his brother, “Dean.” The younger Winchester stilled his hips and dropped his head to Dean’s chest, his breathing ragged as his already softening cock throbbed one last time.

Dean smiled weakly as he breathed, his arms settling around Sam and holding him close as the afterglow faded out. He lifted his legs, squeezing Sam’s torso as he chuckled and wiped the tears from the sides of his face.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to say, but it didn’t seem to matter. “All this,” His lips started moving without his brain, “An’ cause I couldn’t keep my fingers outta my ass?”

“Apparently,” Sam looked up at his brother and chuckled, moving his palms up and down Dean’s sides, “At least next time you won’t have to do it yourself.” The suggestiveness was there in his voice, he’d leave it up to Dean if he wanted more - if he wanted to continue this.

“Mmm, sounds like somethin’ I might be able to live with,” Dean said as he rolled them over onto their sides, grin spreading across his face, “All this tense work, this case, the last case, the next case, an’ now I can have you… I can have  _this_ , Almost feels unreal.”

Sam gripped Dean by the hips and pulled him closer, his eyes flicking down to those full, pink lips then back up to his eyes, “You can have me on one condition.” It’s not like he was legitimately talking terms and conditions, more like teasing lightly - pressing Dean’s buttons, so to speak.

The older Winchester raised a brow and leaned in, looking at Sam in slight perplexity, “Mm, an’ what’s that?”

Sam smiled so wide it could’ve split his face in half as he leaned in and kissed Dean, short and chaste, “One obligatory post-coital snuggle session… per week.”

Dean laughed and licked his lips as he tightened his arms around Sam, drawing the larger man as close as he could, “You act like I wouldn’t’ve already been doin’ that.”

Sam weaved his right leg in between Dean’s and shrugged the best he could, “For someone who hates chick flick moments, I sure as hell didn’t have you pegged as a snuggler.” Not that it was a bad surprise per se, just unexpected.

“Despite popular belief,” Dean started as he moaned in appreciation, ghosting kisses along Sam’s jaw, up to his ear where he whispered, “ _I’m actually **quite**  a lover, an’ I think stayin’ close to you, like this, it’s not really snugglin’ so much as it is enjoyin’ bein’ close to you_.”

“Good,” Sam cupped Dean’s cheek, his thumb caressing his brother’s jaw, “Cause you’re in for a lot of it.”


End file.
